"Let's try South and East, check the school on the way."
As you move off you hear the sounds of a patrol investigating the Administrators home behind you... it would appear that trap also functioned as an alarm.
Skirting along the southern side of the settlement you check out the school. These two modules are classrooms and laboratories used as a basic school. A quick examination finds little of interest but the looming form of the foreign fortified structure in the gloom of what was the commons in the center of town.
Going further east would lead you to the "stable" where the locals store vehicles.
"Stable?"
This open-sided structure looks like a rustic barn, complete with red paint and white trim. One side of the building is open, and several wide vehicles are stored beneath gray tarps.
Beneath the tarps lie the hovertrikes are roughly triangular, with a hoverjet in the front and two hoverjets in the back supporting a wide cargo area. A quick look over the vehicles shows that various parts are missing from each of them... they wont start without some techical near miracles being performed.
"Any clues, folks? I doubt kicking them will help.", Trosvod says in his best impression of sage wisdom.
He continues smoking a cigar while searching the building.
"You're not with them?"
The obvious yet nervous question rises from the far back of the stable, as does the speaker. A human male emerges from hiding beneath the tarp concealing one of the larger vehicles. He wears an Estex Suit too larger for him, likely scavenged, and grips the spindly barrel of a ballistic hunting rifle like a walking stick as he regains his footing.
He beckons you away from the mouth of the stable so you can speak in something above the thinnest of whispers.
"My name's Nosmo. I'm one of the colonists. I've been hiding from those soldiers ever since I snuck away about, um," he wipes away a streak of grease and sweat from his forehead with his wrist as he thinks. "I think it's been three days now. Oh, right - three and a half days. Thank you, G-tan."
The last bit is not directed to you, and it's almost as though this Nosmo is speaking to thin air.
Behind his mask it was impossible to real the elf’s face. His tone of voice made imaging it much easier. ”That so? Have a weapon? If so come with us. We’ll do introductions if we live.”
"I was able to grab this hunting rifle from the storehouse before I slipped away. Rendell had been teaching me to shoot, using the Hobgars as target practice. I hadn't exactly gotten very good, yet. Never managed to hit one of those angry furballs. I also grabbed a box of cartridges, so at least I'll have plenty of chances to improve, right?" Nosmo laughs nervously. He sighs, then steels his face with a determined expression.
"But this is serious. This is the time when heroes need to rise. I'm sure I'm ready. I know I can do this, especially since I tweaked G-tan to help me aim," he adds, his face brightening.
Despite approaching his thirties, Nosmo still seems quite immature. His attempt to put on a brave face only serves to bespeak someone who spends too much time watching holovids about over-the-top action heroes.
Trosvod turns at the sound, his shoulder-mounted heavy weapon starting to aim.
Then he sees the human, grins, and relaxes.
"Hey there, Nos! I'm Trosvod, and the more warm bodies on our side with guns, the better!"
The vesk extends a clawed hand to shake
Nosmo accepts the clawed hand and returns the shake.
"I'm afraid I don't have much intel to provide on the enemy. I've only crept back into the colony when I was sure I could evade notice, so I've largely kept a distance. A patrol that G-tan was tracking through the cemetery went down not too long ago. I figured someone was fighting back against the occupation, so I made a beeline for the stable, where I'd been hiding some gear, like this battlesuit."
He looks nervously towards the entrance of the motorpool, as though expecting hostiles at any moment.
"Can any of you operate these vehicles?" he continues to whisper. "It's a longshot, but I might be able to jury rig one back into operation. Of course, we'd have to keep low to avoid those flak cannons."
A nostalgic look crosses Trosvod's face as he recalls good times involving his special brand of "piloting"...
"I'll put it to you this way, I've been behind the controls, and I'm pretty good at it. Not as good at shooting though! So I'll graciously let someone else pilot. That is a clear humanitarian gesture, right?"
Trosvod grins, clearly very chuffed with his good deeds.
”Good work, then. If you can get it moving, I will drive it. Tros, Id rather have you shooting.”
"Hell yes!", agrees the vesk, lighting another cheap cigar to celebrate.
Nosmo rolls his neck on his shoulders, loosening tension lingering from when he hid beneath the beached whale of a vehicle.
"Okay, G-tan, let's get to work."
He draws forth his toolkit, clearly a custom rigged mishmash of tools, components, and oddments scavenged from the stable, the Greenhouse, the moisture collectors, and who knows what else. He flings back the tarp on one of the vehicles and begins operating with all the gleeful focus of a mad surgeon.
Finding phenomenal success, Nosmo stops just short of shouting "It's alive!" lest he draw attention from the occupying patrols.
"Ha! Not bad for just being a biotech. Even Aibretta would have to be impressed with this. Geez, I hope she's okay," he sighs, the excitement suddenly fleeing from his face.
"Okay, I've got it working, but these trikes are loud beasts, and slow to start," Nosmo explains as he packs up his rig back into its compact chassis. "If we hit that ignition, we'll probably have a patrol on us quickly. Unless you have reinforcements, it might be best to save this for making a quick escape. Have you managed to rescue any of the other colonists yet?"
Nosmo's speech begins to quicken as he grows excited by the prospect of becoming a hero and rescuing his fellow colonists.
Trosvod is clearly cheered at the prospect of a loud escape.
"Yeah, we're definitely roaring out of here! Oh and yeah, we got two humans already."
Nosmo's dirty face brightens.
"Really? Who?" he asks, excited to hear that some of his fellow colonists may have already been liberated by these new arrivals. "I hope they've learned more about these invaders than I have."
He shakes his head. Nosmo's never had to sneak around, not even back in his university days. This ordeal has been a learning experience in that regards, but he's had to avoid most of the prefab buildings, lest the patrols catch him.
"Jellik and Aibretta are still about. Last we heard, Cedona was still in the slammer."
Elthaeron looked over the vehicle, ignoring the people around him. As he did so he muttered to himself about the crude technology and how impressed he was that Nosmo had fixed it.
Although he has only just met the two, Nosmo shares qualities with both Trosvod and Elthaeron. However, at the moment, the part he shares with the vesk soldier comes to the forefront as a reckless streak seizes hold of Nosmo's heart.
"I've seen them haul a few people away an lock them up. We can free them! A prison break! We can retake the colony!"
The biotech worker has already sold himself on the image of derring-do in his head, even though he does not fully understand the real danger at play in such a proposition.
Trosvod grins widely, his cigar smouldering away.
He turns to his crew:
"See, this guy gets it! We're skulking about too much!"
A bit of reality begins draining the enthusiasm from Nosmo's face. He begins to reconsider a heroic charge that would likely become a martyrdom.
"You said Jellik and Aibretta are free? Are they alone? Even with the trike, I don't know if just the three of us can defeat their garrison."
He pauses, lost in thought for a second. His lips move, but no audible words come out, as though miming his thoughts. Finally, he snaps his fingers softly.
"Doc Epplendell's hospital! There's probably some useful supplies there! But first we may want to hit up the Comm Module. If we can get a message offworld, we could get reinforcements - or at least some intel on the enemy."
Baedjrak speaks up "No luck there, Jelik told us the comms buildings go blown to slag when they attacked. They're jamming our communications both in the colony and on our ship. I'm going to head back and see if I can break through the interference."
Arika nods "I'll go with you, if we can get back up while ye scout them out more it would be wise. Best not to put all our eggs in one basket."
"Sounds good. Try not to die!", Trosvod replies in his usual helpful manner.
"Yeah, we can scout more. And a hospital is worth loo--*searching*. Let's get going."
Nosmo couches his hunting rifle and follows the more experienced combatants, although Elthaeron occasionally turns aside the barrel of his longarm as a quiet reprimand to not accidentally aim the weapon towards allies. Using what he's learned over the past few days, the bioengineer tries to move as quietly as possible towards the hospital.
Elthaeron did barely better than Nosmo at remaining stealthy. His mind was racing as he tried *not* to think about all the rifles that would be aimed at them. That and the fact that they had killed trained soldiers, while not all of them were as proficient. There was a high chance that some of them wouldn’t make it through this in one piece. So he tried, and failed, not to think about it.
He had heard them before he saw them, so AXL simply stood very still, his cybernetic mind pondering all the options as fast as his processor would allow.
The android was almost certain one of them was a local, and the others definitely did not use the soldier armors he had seen before... Logical reasoning made him step forward from a distance, and take the risk to make allies, even if temporary, while retaining evasive options.
He lowered his face mask and stepped out in the open - arc pistol in his right hand, but pointing to the side and down in a non threatening manner.
"Well met" - he spoke in a calm voice - "Are you friend or foe?"
Trosvod, to the possible surprise of his companions, is relatively quiet.
Perhaps it is the prospect of "acquisition" which has inspired him.
Sneaking up a few metres behind the newcomer, the reptilian cheerily replies:
"Friend! How'd you end up here?"
Nosmo shudders, taken by surprise by the android's arrival. Thankfully, he manages to suppress any sort of gasp or shriek. Lacking the reflexes of a soldier, he also avoids aiming his hunting rifle at the potential ally. He strives to calm himself as it becomes clear that this could be another compatriot in the fight to liberate Madelon - although his exocortex reminds him that his heart rate remains very elevated.
"Who are you?" he asks the android, his roving eyes trying to assess AXL's capabilities. "I don't suppose you were sent as backup?"
Axel's sudden grip on the handgun and the flare up in his lame like eyes betray just how much he was caught by surprise by Trosvod - "A supply run to Madelon, then everything suddenly was out of control" - he explains - "I have not yet quite grasped exactly what is happening, but there is a large amount of soldiers and other ordnance in the area - they seem to have set up some sort of martial law" - the android adds - "I managed to move out of Madelon, and have been roaming the area. Comms seem to be dead and beyond repair, so I was getting ready to move deeper into the wild and away from the area"
"Who are you?" he asks the android, his roving eyes trying to assess AXL's capabilities. "I don't suppose you were sent as backup?"
"Regrettably not. You are awaiting backup?"
"Regrettably not. You are awaiting backup?"
"Regrettably not. It was just a little blind optimism," Nosmo says with a nervous laugh. "Aw man, this just isn't like the vids. I'm probably the galaxy's biggest idiot for thinking it would be. I can't even think straight. It feels like my exocortex is overheating. No, G-tan, I'm not blaming you."
Nosmo sits down on a large rock and rubs the sides of his head, trying to collect himself. He is clearly over his head, and his ability to conceal this has worn threadbare. He begins muttering to himself, trying to parse out the best course of action.
He perks up after a moment, and he looks to his Starfinder allies.
"Did you already check out Madelon's place? Did you find anything there?"
AXL looks at the others with a nod as Nosmos addresses them - "I am an able scout and infiltrator" - he explains, though his words seem devoid of any sort of bluster - "I would like to join you, and increase our chances of survival" - he explains.
The settlement’s storage building consists of four prefabricated corrugated metal modules welded together to make a single enormous warehouse. Two doors lead into the storehouse: a closed door marked “Office” and a wider door that hangs open.
"Not going to stop you. When you're as outnumbered as we are, every rifle is welcome."
Nosmo seems to finally collect his thoughts, perhaps realizing that he's embarrassing himself in front of the Starfinders. He rises from his seat and extends a hand to AXL.
"I'm new to this, too, so I don't know how much weight my opinion holds, but if it helps to liberate the colony, I'd sure welcome your help," he says, offering his welcome to the android.
Once the band presses on and reaches the storehouse, Nosmo creeps over to the closed office door an examines it.
Nosmo spots an armored figure standing near a half-collapsed rack of heavy machinery, examining his rifle. His behavior isn’t particularly militaristic; he isn’t paying a lot of attention to his surroundings and isn’t positioned in a way that gives him good coverage of the storehouse.
Nosmo leans a little on the door which elicits a whine from the hinges drawing the figures attention. "Nosmo?" A familiar voice which is muffled a little comes from the helmet. The figure removes this helmet revealing it as Rendell Tace the supply clerk. "Thank the gods, I was worried you were one of them."
Trosvod grins at Axel, and replies:
"You shoot anyone shooting at us, we'll get on just fine!"
AXL nods at his newfound companions in acceptance of their reasoning, extending his hand in greeting to Nosmo, but speaking to all - "Thank you"
He then falls in place with the group.
------
Understanding Nosmo is familiar with this one, AXL simply stands watch over their surroundings as the conversation ensues.
"Thank heavens, I could say the same about you," Nosmos sighs, easing his grip on his hunting rifle. He steps into the office both to speak with Rendell and to escape being out in the open. "Feeling kind of envious, though. It looks like you managed to scrounge up the better gear."
When Trosvod, Elthaeron, and AXL enter the office, Nosmo's excitement perks up again.
"Check this out, Ren' - I found some people to help us free the colony. They're real Starfinders!"
"Yup! We have the badges and everything! And guns!", Trosvod states with clear pride.
From his guard position at the door, which he has made sure is now ajar, AXL turns and acknowledges Nosmo and Trosvod's words - "We are indeed armed" - he confirms.
"In fact, they've already met up with with Jellik and Aibretta," Nosmo adds.
"We're gonna put together a force that'll be ready to hit the garrison once we've softened them up in a few places. I bet you'll be eager to help with this, Ren'," he says with a grin and nod.
He looks down at his gear awkwardly. "One of them came into the storage building to demand an accounting of the settlement’s goods. I refused the order... which was kind of stupid but I got lucky. The cadet then shot at me but missed. The bullet ricocheted off a support beam and struck a heavy shelf, which collapsed onto the cadet. The cadet was killed instantly, but then realized I might be blamed for the death and punished by the Azlanti. I hid the cadet’s body and now wear his armor, pretending to stand guard inside the storage building."
"There's a problem though. I've recently heard a request over the comm unit in the helmet, but he can’t understand it, as it’s in Azlanti. I don't speak it. I don't think my scheme is going to hold up much longer but I'm no soldier, I'd be a liability in this assault."
"Then we'll move you and the gear!", Trosvod replies.
"You heard a request?" - AXL inquires - "You believe this was addressed to the soldier accidentally killed?"
"Then we'll move you and the gear!", Trosvod replies.
"Agreed - remaining here is not the most logical option"